Private Collection
by Colorful Crayola
Summary: A collection of one-shots that focus on Kathryn Walker's and Jazz's misadventures. All chapters contained are stand-alone stories that don't belong in the main fics but still enhance the story altogether. Requests are welcome either via PM or review.
1. No News

**Hello, readers!**

 **What's this? I'm updating my Transformers anthology with more one-shots? WHAT? IT'S BEEN OVER A YEAR? OH MY GOOOOODDDD.**

 **Sorry, I don't know what came over me. I finally got around to writing more of these and coming up with ideas, so here they are. I also have an alternate ending chapter coming up that was requested, so be on the lookout for that. At last, I have all my Noctuary one-shots ported over to AO3 so now I'm moving on to these. I'm also starting to write more Ask Not the Sparrow chapters, so I'm gonna keep to my weekly update schedule! I'm actually pretty proud of myself if I do say so.**

 **Thanks for the support from my patrons! Toby, Tonya, Narttu, and Kendra are the real MVPs! They get early access to chapters and they also get access to a bunch of other stuff I post, like chapter notes and outlines, my planning pages, covers, and all kinds of stuff!**

 **These aren't edited very much, so they're going to be a little rough. Any critiques are welcome, but try to be specific so I can edit easier! Thanks!**

 **~ Crayola**

* * *

No News

Kathryn is given the news that her parents were in a horrible accident. Rated T.

* * *

I stepped out into the daylight, squinting and lifting my hands to shield my eyes. The lighting inside the bank was nothing compared to Mother Nature, and I had to stand and wait for my eyes to adjust before trying to navigate the parking lot.

My antique—just another word for "old as balls"—Camry was right where I left it and I headed toward it, coming to pause when a cop car pulled up and blocked my way.

Officer Wright rolled down his window and I smiled at him in greeting. "Evening, Officer."

"Evening, Ms. Walker."

The somber tone and serious expression wiped the smile clean off my face and I walked closer to his car, leaning down slightly. "Is . . . everything okay, Officer?"

He took a breath and climbed out of his cruiser. I wasn't sure what was going on, so I took a step back onto the sidewalk. He said, "You'd better come with me, Ms. Walker. There's somewhere I have to take you."

All at once, my brain flipped through everything that had happened within the last 24 hours. The last week. Hell, the last three months. I couldn't come up with anything that I would have done to warrant being picked up by the police. It didn't seem like he was arresting me, and nothing on his face told me I was in any sort of trouble.

So, I just asked.

"Did . . . did I do something wrong, officer?" I asked, my throat going dry. I looked around the parking lot of my bank, catching a few of my coworkers standing by their cars and gawking, and my face turned red.

Shaking his head, Officer Wright assured me, "No, no. Nothing like that, Ms. Walker. There's, um, there's been an accident. Your parents were involved. I'm going to take you to the hospital." He came around his cruiser and opened the back door for me, motioning for me to take a seat.

I hesitated, staring at the interior while I tried to wrap my mind around what he had just said to me."What kind of accident?" I asked, turning my attention to him.

"It's your parents. They were in a car accident."

Immediately, my hands started to shake. I nodded, my mouth hanging open wordlessly, and I crawled into the back of the cruiser. Officer Wright shut the door behind me and I mechanically pulled the seatbelt over me and clicked it into place. Once we were on the road, I came back to myself and remembered my car in the lot.

"What about my car?" I asked, my voice hollow.

"Someone can bring you back to pick it up later."

What I wanted to ask next stuck in my throat. If I didn't ask, he couldn't tell me the worst case answer. If I didn't ask, I could sit there and pretend like I knew it was just a small accident. They were in the hospital being treated for stiff necks and maybe some sore limbs. Everything was going to be fine. We'd come to pick up my car later, just like he said.

An itty bitty voice in the back of my head told me that if it was as simple as that, they wouldn't have sent a police officer to pick me up at work.

I told that itty bitty voice to shut up.

When I couldn't stand the silence anymore, I asked Officer Wright, "Do . . . do you know what happened? Did they tell you anything?" However, I wasn't sure if he'd even heard me because my voice refused to go any louder than a whisper.

He did, though, and answered. "I was only told to come to pick you up, sorry."

There was a genuine concern in his voice. The sympathy in his expression was reflected in the rearview mirror as he glanced back at me. I averted my eyes and stared out the window, my hands squeezing each other until my knuckles turned white.

"I know it was the Richards couple, but that's it," he said after a long pause.

Sniffing, I looked up and said, "Carla and Lloyd?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Are they okay?" I asked without conviction. All I cared about right then was my parents.

"I'm not sure," Officer Wright admitted.

The guy was an absolute font of knowledge and I had to keep myself from lashing out at him. It wasn't his fault he didn't know anything, and venting my fear and frustration on him wouldn't help me or him any. Instead, I bit the inside of my cheek and repeated over and over in my head a single mantra: _no news is good news._

 _No news is good news._

 _No news is good news._

 _No news is goo—_

"We're here," Officer Wright announced. "Would you like me to escort you in?"

At first, I was going to decline his officer. However, I thought better of it and nodded. "Yes, please. That would be nice."

He found a place to park close to the emergency entrance and we headed inside together. I was glad for the company, glad that someone who wasn't seconds from falling apart was going into the hospital with me. With both my parents there in unknown conditions, I had nobody to stand by my side. My best friend lived in a different city; I was going to have to call her later.

When I had more info.

When I knew how okay I was going to be.

Officer Wright led me to the desk and asked the nurse, "I brought Kathryn Walker. She's here about her parents. They were in an accident, brought by ambulance."

The nurse looked up from her computer long enough to look at me and Officer Wright, then nodded and clicked away at her computer's keyboard. "Let's see, Walker . . . Walker . . . . Ah, yes. Um—Oh. Uh . . . your father is in OR Four. Second floor. I'll page someone and let them know you're coming. They'll, uh, they'll be able to tell you more about your mother."

I didn't like the way she'd paused or said that "Oh".

"Thank you. I'll stay with you, Ms. Walker," Officer Wright offered, lifting his arm to invite me further into the hospital.

All I could do was nod and follow him to the elevators.

OR. Operating Room. One or both of them were under the knife. If my memory served, the Richards had a big SUV. An Escalade or something. My parents drove a tiny Monte Carlo—if the two cars had collided, then my parents would have . . . their car might have . . . .

It—they—wouldn't have stood a chance.

The trip up to the second floor was all a haze as my mind ran through every single worst-case scenario. My eyes itched as tears slowly and silently trickled down my cheeks. I tried to hide them from Officer Wright, carefully wiping them away to avoid smearing my mascara. By this time in my life, it was more of a habit than from any real concern over my appearance. Especially with the new waterproof stuff.

 _Ugh. I'm so fried I'm thinking about my makeup._

To tell the truth, it was better than thinking about my parents. Easier. Less scary. I had half a mind to just bolt back down to the first floor and flee the hospital altogether. Run all the way back to my house and hide under my covers. Wish this all away. A thick, hot feeling in my gut told me everything was wrong. From the nurse's face to her pauses . . . things were wrong.

And I was going to have to sit in a stuffy waiting room and wait for someone to come and tell me _how_ wrong.


	2. Right Place, Wrong Time

**Hello, readers!**

 **Here's one last quick update before I start working on Sparrow again. I have run out of pre-written one-shots so I'll have to write some more. I'm still gonna do that alternate ending to Better Days, just not sure when I'll be able to get it up.**

 **Thanks again to my patrons Toby, Tonya, Narttu, and Kendra! And, of course, to everyone who reads, comments, and favorites/follows. You guys keep me going!**

 **~ Crayola**

* * *

Right Place, Wrong Time

Jazz is on a mission to find Kyle Walker, but someone else may have gotten there first. Rated T.

* * *

It had taken so much time to track down any living relatives of the late Captain Walker. It was apparently a pretty common surname and vetting almost 700,000 instances of it had been a chore even for Jazz's processor. He was actually quite envious of Bumblebee in that regard . . . .

Witwicky was a much more unique name. He'd almost instantly found the humans he was looking for and was already on his way to the state of Nevada.

Jazz had followed dead ends after dead ends until finally, he'd found a man by the name of Kyle Walker, grandson to the Captain they had met in space. He'd traced hundreds of thousands of family trees to find him, but at last, he was located—living in a tiny backwater town. Jazz had considered finding descendants of the rest of the crew but finding the right Walker family had already been exhausting.

There was only one Sam Walker that they cared about, but his existence had been buried under so much nonsense that Jazz had scoured bloodlines and lineages forever. Maybe he'd taken a few detours to peruse the World Wide Web and all the many rabbit holes it had, but still.

It had taken so much longer than he would have liked.

There sure were an awful lot of walls up around this guy, though. If he wasn't trying to be so secretive, he might have probed those firewalls and redacted files, but he was afraid that would raise alarms.

When he introduced himself, this Kyle could probably fill in the blanks.

He lived with his wife and daughter, so Jazz would have to observe for a while and figure out the best time to approach Kyle alone so he didn't have to involve anyone that didn't need to be involved . . . .

All they needed was an ally to help them out in this strange world. Mr. Walker seemed to work for the government—if nothing else, he could help warn his people of the coming war. Of the Decepticons and the AllSpark. If Captain Walker had been able to take all of this in stride, then surely his kin would, as well.

It all came on the heels of a particularly enlightening encounter with the humans: they were able to simulate the AllSpark's energy signature. They had lured both Jazz and Bumblebee into a trap—they hadn't been ready for Starscream to show up, however, and the Decepticon had inadvertently rescued the two Autobots from the attempted capture.

Sometimes the big brute was good for something.

All it meant was that they were in desperate need for humans on their side. Someone to let the human government know that there was a peaceful faction there to help them against the coming Decepticon invasion.

Bumblebee was charged with finding the Witwicky family, a possible key to finding the AllSpark. Jazz had to play ambassador to the Walker grandson.

With an address and a name in his mind, he drove the streets of the backwater town known as Park City—a strange name for a place that was so tiny. Checking Walker's place of residence proved fruitless, however, as no one was home.

A quick scan of his computers and social media produced a few ideas of where Walker was—and a car to look for. An old Monte Carlo. Jazz couldn't help the flash of disdain he felt when looking up the car: it left a lot to be desired.

 _It ain't even the classic body . . . ._

Jazz himself had picked out a Firebird to imitate—the _classic_. Not like the junker Walker was driving. Well, Jazz decided that there was no accounting for taste. He would have very much liked a newer body, but it had been the first thing to come around that he was happy with—everything else he wouldn't have been caught dead in.

One could be stylish and stealthy. There wasn't a need to choose one over the other.

Figuring Walker had to be in town somewhere, he cruised around Park City keeping his optics open for the black Chevrolet and his target.

Eventually, he found it.

Surrounded by the authorities, crumpled up on the side of the road in front of a storefront. The emergency response vehicles were already departing, and Jazz pulled to a stop nearby and trained all his sensors on the conversations happening, trying to discern what had happened. Where Walker was.

Also on the side of the road was a big and shiny black SUV, its front fender twisted and crumpled. The couple that owned it was speaking with a police officer; the woman was beside herself with weeping, and the man couldn't stop shaking as he stood there, animatedly recounting what had happened. The officer jotted everything down on a small pad of paper, nodding along with a disgruntled expression.

"—control. It just . . . the wheel just twisted in my hands. I couldn't do anything. I _didn't_ do anything! It says, it says right here," the man said, his voice straddling the line of hysterics while he fumbled with pulling his driver's license out of his wallet to show the officer. "See? It says 'safe driver'!"

Jazz's suspicion piqued and he ran a scan on the SUV. There were trace amounts of Cybertronian energy found on it, but it wasn't a Decepticon, but . . . that didn't mean one had nothing to do with the accident. This discovery was alarming enough so he tried to find out where those ambulances were going—Walker wasn't anywhere to be seen, so it stood to reason that he had been injured and was being taken for treatment.

He restarted his engine and took off down the road to follow the ambulances as they sped toward the hospital in the next town over. Jazz caught up to them rather easily despite their head start and ran more scans—this time on the occupants.

In the first ambulance, the one closest to him, there was a single driver, focused on the road and healthy by average standards. He could maybe stand to exercise a bit more but Jazz wasn't one to judge. Sometimes he didn't want to do anything, either, but didn't have the luxury.

Then there were the technicians in the back, communicating with each other and fussing over the prone body of a woman on a gurney.

Jazz's spark lurched and he double-checked her readings and, sure enough . . . .

There were none.

No heart rate, her temperature declining, brain non-functioning—she was—

 _Dead._

He scanned further and came up with a working render of what she looked like and cross-referenced it with Walker's social media and— _Primus, it's his mate. No, his wife._

If she had been dead on arrival, then he had to find out what Walker's condition was. He floored it, easily overtaking the ambulances in the free lane next to them. Traffic wasn't terrible, but he had to weave around a Prius that was moving out of the emergency vehicles' way.

One driver in good health, technicians in good health, and a patient lying on a gurney . . . .

Relief coursed through his circuits. He was alive. In critical condition, but alive. The first responders were trying to keep him stable, but there was significant bleeding both internally and externally, one in his brain that would—would—

Jazz stopped moving, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the freeway. Cars swerved and blared their horns and traffic slowly backed up behind him until he came back to himself and pulled off to the side of the road, turning on his hazard lights. People continued to honk at him, but he paid them no mind as he came to terms to what had happened.

The Decepticons had to have done this, but he couldn't quite figure out how or why. If it was Barricade, whom they had encountered earlier after landing on Earth, then Frenzy was involved and he could have easily taken over that other couple's car and forced them to crash into them . . . had their goal been to kill the two humans?

Had they wanted to capture them?

They must have known that the Autobots were targeting the Walkers as potential allies. Neither capture nor assassination was out of the question if that was the case.

Something struck Jazz and he set off another chain of road rage as he cut across the open road and jumped into the fast lane to follow the ambulances into the next town over. If they had killed both Julie and Kyle—though, to be fair Kyle was still alive for the time being, though Jazz didn't think they'd be able to salvage what was left of him—then they might have another target besides them.

Their daughter, Kathryn.

He hadn't been able to be there for them, but he was going to make _sure_ that he was there to stop their daughter from the same fate. They'd lost Samuel, they'd lost his crew, and now they were about to lose his kin.

 _Not on my watch,_ Jazz thought, shooting back to Park City to hunt down the girl, armed with her social media profiles and any picture he could dredge up. Jobs, her school, her address, all of it. Anything that would help him find her before those fragging Decepticons could and—

As he had suspected, she was at work. He had split off from the ambulances and parked close enough for surveillance. She was being picked up by the authorities, warned of her parents' conditions.

But she was safe. He could have fallen apart at the lug nuts he was so relieved.

All he had to do now was find a way to _keep_ her safe. He checked the surrounding area, the cars in the parking lot of the bank and . . . yes, one of them had the right license plate attached to her driving record. He'd take over from there . . . .

The thing was a piece of scrap metal parading as a car, but he would endure. He couldn't let the Decepticons victimize another innocent human.


	3. Alternate Ending

**Hello, readers!**

 **This addition was requested by Cinematronix! I hope it's everything you wanted, friend ~**

 **I meant to post this yesterday but I, uh, kind of forgot because of all the Father's Day shenanigans. So, here it is, a day late . . . oh well. It's been up on my patron page for a little while, so in the future, if you want to catch stuff early, you can head over to P-a-t-r-e-o-n dot c-o-m and use the URL extension /kaylanhodge to find my stuff!**

 **You know what else you'll find there? A TRAILER TO MY UPCOMING FIC INSOMNIA, SEQUEL TO PHANTASM AND NIGHTMARE. If you like my Aliens/Predator fics, anyway. Citrine Nebulae made it for me because she's SUPER SWELL. Other people who are super swell are my patrons; Dark, Narttu, Kendra, and Tonya! Love ya guys.**

 **Since this is an alternate ending to Better Days, I don't have to tell you that this isn't canon but just in case . . . this isn't canon, y'all! Enjoy the edgy sadness. I grew a stray hair and decided to write this in first person pov because why not.**

 **~ Crayola**

* * *

Alternate Ending

Instead of being saved at the last second in Better Days, Megatron kills Kathryn. Rated F for feels.

* * *

I'd bit off way more than I could chew. Megatron had come out of nowhere, though, and I had to do something. Innocents were at stake. My fellow Autobots were at stake.

Still, I should have thought my attack through just a _little bit better._

 _Well, slag._

All I could think of was Kat while Megatron was bot-handling me like I was some sort of empty doll. My charge, my friend, my . . . _my little miss._ Who was gonna watch over her if Megatron tore me apart? If he ripped my spark from my chest? My hail of firepower didn't seem like it was doing much but making this giant slag-head angrier. How was I going to get myself out of this mess that I'd -

The screeching of tires caught my attention. I could only look from the corner of my optic sensors, my _eyes_ , to see what was going on, but I knew there was a big ass truck coming our way - making a beeline for Meg's stupid legs.

I didn't know if it was going to be enough. I had to do something . . .

 _Make him dance._

With some measure of difficulty, I set my sights on Meg's feet and opened fire. The armor was much thinner around that and the hands, so the result was in my favor. He stutter-stepped, unbalancing himself just as the big Hummer spun on its wheels. Its back end slammed into Meg and our combined efforts were enough to bring him to the ground and free me from his death grip.

I landed on my back and my pain censors erupted, text scrawling across my vision display to alert me to everything that had just broken. My systems were stunned, the display cutting in and out from a full picture to static. I rolled over and put my hand to my chest where something was rattling around loose.

An awful sound brought me out of my own agony and I turned in time to see Megatron flailing like a turtle on its back; one of his limbs smacked the Hummer that had collided with him, sending it sprawling across the debris-strewn seat.

Inside it, I caught a glimpse of someone in the driver's seat.

Megatron, still in the process of standing, also saw them. I pushed myself up, but my arm wouldn't hold any of my weight and I collapsed again.

"Insolent fleshling," Megatron snarled as his arm transformed into a cannon and he sighted it upon the large truck. It whirred to life and glowed-white hot - and there I was, still unable to get my feet underneath me.

"No!"

He fired a single shot. The vehicle took the brunt and exploded.

A familiar engine closed in: Optimus. He transformed nearby, but all of my attention was centered on that burning car.

"Megatron!"

"Prime!"

The two took their beef elsewhere and I staggered up and over to the car, ripped the door off its moorings, then reached in and pulled out the person inside. The heat barely registered on my armor. The body was badly burned and mangled by the blast. Vitals were out and a sinking feeling crept into my spark as the shape . . . the contours . . . came into focus.

Female.

" _I need eyes on Kat!"_ I declared over our interconnected communications system.

Ratchet sounded off first. " _Negative."_

" _I don't have her,"_ Ironhide said.

" _She's not with Mikaela or Sam or me,"_ Bumblebee added. His vocal processor was damaged, but he could still communicate with us through the system. It was more like a serious of thoughts, of instant messaging.

Optimus was the only one unable to respond, thick in the heat of battle with Megatron.

It wasn't good enough for me. " _What about the military? Do they have her?"_

The silence that followed as my comrades checked in was deafening. Optimus I knew wouldn't have her - he was busy with Megatron. My spark was only growing heavier and heavier: this was exactly the kind of stunt Kat would pull. A hail mary to _save me_ because she had no idea how to keep her own skin safe.

 _It's not. It's not. Any second now, the others will tell me she's with Lennox or someone else. She's alright . . . she's gotta be alright . . ._

Again, Ratchet came through first. " _No one's seen her since Megatron attacked."_

My spark nearly shattered. This tiny, broken, charred girl in my hands, limp . . . not breathing . . .

"Oh, little miss."

" _Care to inform us of what's going on?"_ Ratchet pressed.

So jumbled were my thoughts that I could barely formulate a response. I didn't want to say it out loud. I didn't want to make it real. Not until I was sure. I ran the scans three or four times. I bounced signals off of every satellite above us, hacked into every security camera in the affected areas of battle as well as those within the buildings. Looking for Kat. Searching for my little miss.

Nothing.

Nowhere. I couldn't find her.

I didn't need to . . . because I was holding her in my hands.

" _Lieutenant?"_ Ironhide prompted.

" _Megatron . . . he . . ."_

The words stuck. I couldn't even project them, turn them into a thought that I wanted to share. Instead, I sent all the information I had gathered. A recording of what I witnessed with Megatron, with the truck. The scans I took, the footage I sifted through, and the images of my little miss - of her body - in my hands. All processed in a matter of seconds and sent in neat little files they could execute.

There was a stunned silence from Ratchet and Ironhide. Bumblebee broadcast an unintelligible caterwaul that echoed the lament I held in my spark.

" _I'm escorting the field medics to your location now"_ Ratchet declared.

How was I supposed to respond to that? _Don't bother, it won't help anything._ Or maybe something along the lines of _We have to do whatever we can to bring her back, to save her._ No, none of that held any weight with me, nothing had any merit. My processors were at war deciding what to do, trying to find the words to express this gamut of emotions raging through me - guilt, grief, despair, rage, hysteria . . .

I was never going to see her smile again. Hear her laugh again. Play silly road games with her again. It felt like all my parts were going to tumble apart and I'd be reduced to a heap of scrap metal rusting away.

She was gone. And I had never felt so alone.


	4. Sunny Side Up

**Hello, readers!**

 **You're probably wondering what the heck this is. Or, if you're familiar with Noctuary, you might not be wondering what it is. Either case, this is Private Collection! It's going to be a...well...collection of one-shots and short stories that take place within Kathryn and Jazz's stories! They're the scenes I want to write (or you want to see!) that don't fit in the main fics.**

 **This one that I'm starting with? I wrote it because this facebook group I'm apart of, that's centered around fanfic writers, is having a February event for ships! One prompt a day! Today is day seven, and the prompt is "The Ship that's Popular in the Fandom". And I know how y'all love you some Sunny/Sides. So, I'm writing this and having it be the debut chapter for the new one-shot collection!**

 **Just like in my other one, Noctuary, I will take requests! It can be anything from alternate scenes (what if 'this' happened instead of 'that'?), scenes you want to see (have Jazz take Kat on a date!) or alternate POVs (what did X think when Y happened?).**

 **So, let the requests begin! Just remember, these are going to be SHORT and they're going to be RAW. I'm not going to edit them or agonize over them like I do the main story. So, don't feel bad requesting things thinking that you're taking time away from the main story. You're not! These are usually pretty quick to write. Hopefully, they'll tide you over until I can finish polishing up the real chapters!**

 **~ Crayola**

* * *

Sunny-Side Up

Kat meets the twins for the first time! It goes about as well as you'd think. Rated T.

* * *

I stumbled in front of my overly-eager guardian, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I went along. He ushered me onward, but I was only barely aware of what he was saying.

"Jazz. . .what? It's—it's three in the morning. We humans need sleep," I whined, pausing at some point to yawn.

He picked me up when he decided I wasn't moving fast enough and cradled me against his chest. "There'll be time to sleep when ya dead. We got visitors!"

Though I still would have liked to be asleep, I was happier that I didn't have to walk.

"Jazz," I said, sounding more and more like a grumpy child. "I can meet them later. Like at noon! I was up late doing paperwork."

"Ah, it'll be quick."

All I could manage in response was a low, desperate whimper.

"Don't be such a baby."

"I am a baby! Wah," I muttered, trying to nestle against his solid, metal chest so I could be comfortable enough to fall back asleep.

Jazz just laughed at me.

No sympathy. Damn robots.

He carried me into the hangar where all the Autobots and NEST agents gathered. There was only a handful of people were there—Autobots included. The bay doors were open and a cold ocean breeze was blowing in while they waited for the new arrivals.

"They're not here yet. Oh well. Guess I'll go back to bed," I said once Jazz set me down. I turned to leave, but he plucked me back up.

"Any second now!"

"Bleh."

"You're grumpy when you're tired."

"All humans are!"

Lennox noticed us—how could he not with our bickering—and clicked his tongue in sympathy. "Jazz, why'd you pull her outta bed?"

"To meet the twins."

"She coulda met them in the morning!"

I waved my hand wildly in the man's direction. "See? That's what I said."

"She'll be fine," Jazz said, blasé as always.

Shaking his head, Lennox just chuckled and returned to Epps' side. Those two, I swore, were attached at the hip.

We waited a little longer alongside Optimus and Ratchet. Just as I was about to demand I be returned to my room, I caught the sound of roaring engines growing louder and louder.

"Finally," I huffed.

A quick "hello", a short "welcome to Earth", and I'd be back in my bed, dreaming about lovely things.

Or just dreaming in general.

I didn't know what I was expecting to drive through that hangar door, but it certainly wasn't two Italian sport's cars, identical except for the colors—one candy apple red and the other canary yellow.

Of course.

Because these robots didn't know the meaning of the word "inconspicuous".

They transformed on the fly and skidding along the floor to a stop, creating sparks in their wake and a grinding noise that made my ears bleed.

"Sup!" the red one declared. "This our welcoming party? Where's everyone else? Sunny and Sides are here!"

"Keep it down," the yellow one chided him. "They can hear you."

Optimus stepped up first and said, "Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, it's good to see you again old friends."

"Were you injured at all when you entered the atmosphere or when you landed?" Ratchet asked, scanning them with a green light. Even in their bipedal forms they looked identical.

"Are they twins?" I asked Jazz in a whisper. They were busy talking with Ratchet.

He nodded. "Ye'h. Not that rare."

"Huh."

"Hey! Jazz!" Sideswipe, the red sports car, declared, stomping toward us. "You got one of them squishies clinging to you."

 _Squishies?_

Jazz stepped forward to meet him and they bumped fists. "Long time no see! This's my little miss, Kat."

"Jazz you oughta get your optics checked! That's no cat."

I rolled my eyes. "Original."

"Oh snap, the cling-on speaks!"

Sunstreaker came up behind his twin and boxed him around the side of the head. "You are not making a good first impression, Sides."

"Ow!"

"My name's Kathryn, most just call me Kat for short," I explained, squirming until Jazz put me down on my feet.

"It's nice to meet you," Sunstreaker said with a polite nod.

"Nice to meet you, too."

 _Now can I go back to bed?_

Before I could excuse myself, Sideswipe asked, "You a soldier?"

I shook my head. "No, I just fill out paperwork and write checks. It's actually past my bedtime, so if you'll excuse me. . . ."

"A'ight, a'ight. I'll get ya back to bed," Jazz relented, leaning over to pick me up.

Sideswipe beat him too it, though, and I let out an embarrassing, surprised squeal before I could stop myself.

He looked me over, holding me in his palm. "They're so fragile! I feel like I'm gonna accidentally break her or something, Kinda cute though, I guess."

"Sideswipe!" Jazz growled. "Put her down!"

"Rude," Sunstreaker grunted.

When he didn't immediately set me down, I wriggled to free myself. "Let me go! Only Jazz gets to pick me up without permission!"

"What? Why?" Sideswipe asked, gently setting me on the ground and backing up before Jazz could hit him. Sunstreaker did it for him. "Ow! I didn't know, Primus."

I straightened my pajama top and said, "Because Jazz _always_ has permission."

Optimus Prime ushered the two twins away. "You have much to learn about Earth, but you'll pick up quickly."

"You've already learned your first lesson," Ratchet pointed out. "Don't pick up _any_ human without asking first. They are very sensitive about how small they are."

"We are not," all three humans present said. That earned a few well-meaning snickers from Jazz and Sideswipe.

The twins were led out to be given a tour by Optimus and Ratchet. I sighed with relief and turned to face Jazz so I could ask, "Can I _please_ go back to sleep _now_?"

Jazz chuckled and picked me up, cradling me in the crook of his arm. "Ye'h, ye'h. Sorry I woke ya."

"No you're not."

He laughed but didn't deny it.


	5. Plastic Hearts

**Hello, readers!**

 **Here's another little one-shot featuring our favorite lady/robot pair! This is kinda corny and fluffy, and I'm not used to doing fluffy, so sorry if it's kinda awkward lol. Anyway, it was my group's Valentine's Day event. The prompt was "The Ship with the Best Chemistry" and ain't nobody got chemistry like Kat and Jazz!**

 **Real chapters for Starry Skies are coming soon! I promise! Just adjusting back into work life, trying to juggle being a mom and stuff! These are really easy to write because I don't like...worry about it being perfect haha.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **~ Crayola**

* * *

Plastic Hearts

Kat's been feeling down, so Jazz is gonna cheer her up! Rated T.

* * *

It seemed like I'd been away from home for ten years already, though it had only been six months or so, give or take.

The days kind of melded together when all you did was fill out paperwork.

And decide the monetary value of people's lives and property. I didn't know one day of the week from next.

When I wasn't working, I was sitting in my room, using up all my data to check Facebook and see what my friends were up to. Maybe I'd call someone—Marie and Mikaela, mostly—but I mostly just checked my wall.

Watched what everyone else was doing. Without me, stranded thousands and thousands of miles away from anyone.

I was homesick.

There was no way around that.

My room was dark as I brooded, sitting up against the wall at the head of my bed. Knees curled against my chest and phone lying on top of the blankets was I scrolled.

News. Satirical articles. Updates. Promotions. Weddings. Babies being born. Lives going on.

Not that I wasn't living a life. I just couldn't tell anyone much, just that I was working for the government. Pushing pencils in a finance position. It wasn't the most riveting thing.

I couldn't even take pictures of the beautiful sunsets and sunrises or any of the exotic scenery of the island.

People might figure out where I was.

That was a secret.

With a sigh, I figured I should probably venture out of my room. Some fresh air and a walk would clear my mind and make me feel better.

Besides, there was always one person who could lighten my mood regardless of what had darkened it in the first place.

Or, rather, a robot.

Excuse me, autonomous robotic organism.

Sometimes, though, it could be hard to track him down. As far as I knew, he wasn't out chasing Decepticons, but there were plenty of other places that he could be hiding. The hangar, out on the runway racing the twins, or out at the junk pile replenishing his ammunitions reserve.

If he was there, I'd just have to wait: he didn't like "eating" in front of me.

 _Nerd._

When I couldn't find him, even after walking pretty much the entire island, I went to the next best thing. If I could find _anyone_ , then I'd just have to ask them where he was.

However, it seemed that the only people I could find were a bunch that I didn't know. Soldiers I had never met, mostly.

Did I really have more Autobot friends than I did people friends?

"Finally!" I muttered when I spotted Ironhide out on the firing range, surrounded by a few soldiers and a ton of artillery. I jogged out to them and caught the tail-end of the conversation.

". . .share our tech, but I can teach you how to. . . ."

"Ironhide!"

He turned away from the soldiers and nodded in greeting. "Kathryn! Are you here to learn how to shoot?"

I shook my head and said, "Oh no, I was just wondering if you'd seen Jazz." That short jog had me breathless. Maybe I'd make a point to start using the gym more often.

"Hmm, can't say that I have. He might be with Optimus in our hangar," he suggestion.

"I checked earlier and there was no one there," I sighed, feeling nervous under all the gazes of the soldiers.

Ironhide shrugged. "Might be there now. If not, feel free to hang out here and I'll teach you how to take down a Decepticon with everyone!"

Smiling politely, I started to back away. "Maybe some other time, thank you."

"Suit yourself."

It might have been a good idea to learn at least a thing or two, but I wasn't very keen to be in the middle of a battle again. I _did_ choose to be a pencil pusher, after all.

Following the lead he'd given me, I headed to the hangar where the Autobots hung out. The base was an old converted airport, so there were plenty of places for them to that they'd actually fit while in their bipedal forms. That way, they wouldn't be limited to their vehicle modes.

Jazz wasn't there.

Optimus was, though.

"Ms. Walker. What can I do for you?" he asked when he noticed my approach.

"I'm looking for Jazz?"

"Ah, you just missed him," he said. "He went to go and look for you, if I recall."

I sighed. "Of course he did."

"I could contact him for you, if you'd like me to," Optimus offered, kneeling down so he was closer to level with me.

He was one of the biggest Autobots, though, so it was nearly impossible.

His offer, though, was just what I needed. I smiled and nodded, saying, "Yes! That would be great, if you don't mind."

"Not at all."

The Autobot leader stood back up and was silent for a moment, presumably having a silent conversation with my guardian.

Finally, he addressed me. "Jazz will be waiting for you on the south beach."

"Great! Thank you, Optimus."

"You are welcome."

After giving him a small wave, I headed back out; I was over the moon that this game of tag was almost over.

At least it had successfully distracted me from my homesickness.

I didn't realize how much beach there was until I had made it all the way to the south side of the island. Optimus hadn't specified _where_ on the south beach, and Jazz was not within eyesight.

"Great," I muttered to myself. I was going to have walk the whole length.

But, it _was_ a beach. It was pretty, if a little chilly. The ocean breeze was subtle, but it didn't take much to make me cold.

The waves broke against the shore and I was careful to stay away from the tide. I wasn't in the right shoes for wading, and walking around in soaking wet socks was, I was pretty sure, a form of torture. I thought about taking my shoes and socks off, but couldn't dredge up the desire.

In the first month, the beach had been a fun novelty. Now, though, it was just there. Something that had become worn out from overexposure.

"Little miss!"called a familiar voice.

I threw my hands up and exclaimed, "Thank god! I'm _so tired_ of walking around looking for you!"

Jazz ran up and I reached for him. He offered one palm and I was more than happy to sit and let him lift me up.

"Where have you _been_?" I demanded, giving him my best pout.

He chuckled and turned back the way he had come, carrying me along. "Sorry, little miss. I had to give you the run around until everything was ready."

I furrowed my brow. "Until what was ready?" I asked.

"Your surprise!"

"I have a surprise?"

Jazz winked down at me and said, "Well, I know you been having a hard time being so far away from anyone."

"And how would you know that?"

"Cuz I know you! I see you mopin' around when you think no one's watching. I looked up all the symptoms and you got a lot of 'em."

All that did was disgruntle me. "So you WebMD'd me?"

"Kinda."

"Well, alright. How're you gonna make me feel better, then?"

Whatever it was, it required him blocking my view with his other hand. I pushed against his palm, but he barely even budged.

"It's a surprise!"

"Fine, fine," I relented, sitting back. "I guess I do like staring at your hand."

He chuckled in response, and it wasn't long before he set me down in the sand, still blocking my view. I crossed my arms and waited.

"Okay. . . ?"

Jazz pulled his hand away to reveal a bench set up with a plate of food and a box with a big bow on it. I looked up at Jazz in confusion, then walked forward at his prompting.

"Is that a lobster?" I asked, sitting in front of the plate.

"Ye'h! Read it was a popular fancy seafood dish, so I went and caught on and had one the humans make it for ya," he explained, sounding mighty proud of himself.

I smiled and raised my eyebrows. "You caught a lobster? Like, from the ocean?"

"They don't move so fast," he shrugged, also lowering himself to sit by the bench.

"Like. . .you went fishing, or you walked into the ocean and plucked a lobster out of it?" I pressed. It did smell delicious. I'd have to find out who cooked it.

"The last one."

"You're a dork."

Chuckling, he pushed the box toward me with a finger and insisted that I open it. I gave him a confused look, then pulled the top of the box off and peered inside.

"Are these. . . ?"

"Yup, fresh off yo social media!"

There were four or five different pictures inside, each in its own frame—all made out of metal. I picked one up and looked it over. It had a picture of me and Marie from when we'd graduated. Two of them were family portraits, and then a couple others were more pictures of me and Marie together.

"Did you make these frames?"

He nodded. "It was easy."

I ran my hands over them and smiled softly, trying not to become too emotional over the family portraits. I'd never had many of them framed, they were all just on my Facebook.

"They're so you can decorate your room! Have a little bit of home with ya, so you don't feel so homesick," he explained.

"Thank you, Jazz," I breathed, carefully placing the framed pictures back in the box so they'd be safe. "I love them. But—why go through all this trouble?"

Jazz scoffed. "Yer my little miss. I can't have you being all sad! 'Sides, you know what day it is?"

"Um. . .I think it's a. . .I don't know."

How embarrassing. I honestly had no idea what day it was.

"It's February 14!" he announced.

"Okay, so—oh. Wait, really?" I asked, looking at the present and meal with a new perspective.

"Are you saying you did all this because it's Valentine's Day?" I asked, deciding to start eating the lobster before it got cold.

He nodded. "Ye'h! You ain't got a beau, and I didn't want you to be even more lonely than you usually are. So I thought I'd make this a thing for ya," he said, motioning at everything with a sweep of his hand.

"Jazz. . .I. . .I don't know what to say," I marveled. "I didn't get you anything."

My concern was brushed aside by yet another gesture. "Ah, I don't need nothin'. Just seeing my little miss happy is enough."

That didn't quite make me feel any better, but I smiled all the same and said, "I am happy, Jazz. And I'm gonna try not to let my homesickness get me down anymore. I don't want you to worry about me."

I reached across the table and he let me put my hand in his much bigger one while I said, "Thank you, Jazz. It means a lot."

"Ah, yer embarrassing me!"

Giggling, I started eating and said, "By the way, Ironhide offered to teach me how to take down a Decepticon earlier."

"Ch'yeah," Jazz scoffed, "as if you gonna be on the front lines any time soon."

"Right?" I said, shaking my head. The conversation continued, and for the first time in a few months, I felt like I was home.


	6. Yuletide

**Hello, readers!**

 **Here's a little Christmas present for everyone . . . it's just a little something I threw together for the season. I was going to try to get one up for Noctuary, too, but then this one turned out to be over 4k words so I couldn't get it written! I'll just write one for New Years, instead . . . maybe. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one!**

 **Special thanks to my patrons: Narttu, Erin, Atira, Andew, Lily, DarkLycan, Tonya, and Kendra! You guys rock.**

 **~ Crayola**

* * *

It was the first year I didn't have my parents for Christmas. The first year I ever had to spend it away from home. Safe to say, I was not feeling the festive atmosphere. I blindly walked through the halls, decorated with tinsel and amusing wall stickers that some of the military personnel had put together.

They barely registered as anything more than noise in the background. Something new to look at besides the crabs that always managed to get inside.

There was a tree in the mess hall, but there weren't a lot of presents under it. Plenty of letters from home, maybe an occasional decorative box. I didn't know if any of them actually had stuff inside or if they were just empty boxes to make the tree feel less sad.

If it was the latter, it wasn't working.

I wanted to be happy and festive. I wanted to wear that ugly sweater Mom had bought me a couple of years ago. I wanted the smiles I shared with the others to actually mean something.

But I couldn't make it happen. I'd thought I was at least past their deaths, if not completely over it. Obviously, that wasn't true. I bought something for Marie on Amazon and had it shipped to her house, and something had caught my eye that I thought Mikaela would like so I had that shipped out to her . . . other than that, I didn't have anyone to shop for.

A Christmas letter to extended family, maybe, but I didn't expect anything back from any of them except gratitude and expressed guilt at not getting me anything.

As the days ticked down to Christmas, I just withdrew further, avoiding even Jazz so I could hole up in my quarters and feel sorry for myself. He tried dragging me out, even sent Star in after me, but I deflected and stayed inside as if I thought mourning would make me feel better.

" _C'mon, little miss. You my good luck charm and Sideswide wants to race again. Guy's incorrigible,"_ Jazz told me over the Bluetooth headset that linked us together even if we were apart.

Lain up in bed, I stared at the ceiling. Normally I would have been home helping Mom shop for Christmas dinner and running around trying to figure out what to buy them. I had been thinking about visiting them, but I hadn't been able to work up the courage to ask for leave when we had only just made base in Diego Garcia a few months prior.

A lot of folks had already gone home for the holidays, including Lennox. The Decepticons were still at large and a threat, though, so the base was still heavily staffed and ready for any sort of attack. I didn't personally have any work to do yet, as I'd finished filing and faxing everything from the last attack.

There was no reason I couldn't go home.

Maybe I just didn't really want to. I didn't have one to go back to: I'd sold the house and I didn't want to impose on Marie and her family time.

So all I could do was mope.

 _"Kat?"_ Jazz prompted. I realized I forgot to answer him.

I put my arm over my face and said, "Sorry, what?"

 _"Come out! I need my good luck charm."_

"You're faster than Sideswipe by a landslide," I pointed out, muttering almost every word. "And you're small enough to out-maneuver him around any corners or turns."

He made an irritated sound. _"Get out here or I'm comin' in after ya. Me, not Star."_

For a moment, I said nothing, then I managed a smirk and said, "I'd like to see that."

Jazz was silent, then the line went dead.

Sitting up, I put my hand to the earpiece and tried to call him. "Jazz? Wait . . . wait Jazz are you really going to . . ." I was talking to static, though, and I rolled my eyes and went back to my prone position, staring at the ceiling from under the crook of my elbow.

 _There's no way he will. He's small but he can't fit in these halls._

He'd call me back after trying and failing to get in the door, then I'd tell him it was a good effort and maybe even humoring by going outside. I did want to see him, too. Misery loved company and all that—or maybe I just wanted to be comforted at the same time I was resigned to being miserable.

If anyone knew how to comfort me, it was Jazz.

Though I waited five or more minutes for him to call me back, he never did so I sighed and forced myself out of the bed. My parents would roll in their graves if they knew I was letting myself mope around during the holidays.

At about the same time, I heard noises coming from down the hall. I paused mid-step on the way to my dresser and listened, my eyes wide.

 _It couldn't be._

The noises—scuffling, metallic scraping—grew louder and louder and then stopped. I waited for a second, and just as I started to relax a pounding on my door startled me and I let out an unflattering squeal.

"Get out here!"

He had.

I couldn't bring myself to the door for a second, frozen in disbelief. There was no way. He couldn't have actually squeezed into the hallway and walked his shiny metal ass to my quarters to personally fetch me.

"Come on! I'm gonna get stuck."

His words finally spurred me into action and I pulled open my door, staring straight at Jazz's face.

"Jazz, what the hell?"

"I told you I would."

Frowning, I peered around him and realized that he had basically army-crawled his entire way down the hall. A gaggle of onlookers was gathered behind him, gawking and whispering at each other. It made me blush, though I wasn't sure why—probably just because I didn't like being part of the spectacle, though I should have been used to it.

The Cybertronians didn't do anything without a ton of spectacle involved.

"I guess you did . . ."

He chuckled and maneuvered an arm out from under his chest to hold his hand out to me. "Now you have to come out. I came and got you."

Sighing, I stared past the gaps between him and the walls and crossed my arms over my chest, covered only in a slight cami, and I held the door more closed to hide the fact that I wasn't wearing any pants.

"Just let me get dressed."

"Aight but don' make me wait too long'r I'll steal you away no matter what ya wearing," he teased.

My cheeks burned and I closed the door without a word. He'd already crawled through the halls to come get me so I didn't doubt for one moment that he would drag me out—pants or no pants. I grabbed whatever was on the ground; a graphic t-shirt that was probably eight years old, a pair of wrinkled leggings that straightened out once they were on, and some socks to go with my sneakers.

When I opened the door, Jazz looked like he really was ready to just push the door off its hinges and nab me, but he pulled his hand back and grinned at me in his robotic way.

"Almost had ya."

"Almost," I huffed, shaking my head. "How are we going to do this? Are you going to crawl backward?"

His expression turned mischievous and he answered, "Naw, we gonna get outta here the way I got in." I was going to ask for clarification, but I stepped away from him as he started to shift in the claustrophobic corridor, also forcing the gawkers to retreat further away.

When he was finished, he was in his Solstice form, facing the exit. He was at an angle, his right set of wheels up on the wall and left set on the floor.

"You seriously drove down here like this?" I asked, absolutely flabbergasted.

 _"Ye'h."_

"Alright, lead the way, I guess," I muttered, waving my hand to prompt in onward. I stepped out of the room now that there was some clearance that I could fit in and closed the door.

Jazz's wheels spun a bit at first, but he eventually found traction and started the slow crawl down the hallway with me following along behind him, mortified the entire way with every person who had to duck back into their room and others who had to crowd in doorways, pressed against the wall. A few were stuck on the wrong side and had to duck down under his wheels as they went above them on the wall.

"Hey, control your robot friend!" someone harrumphed, glaring at me.

 _"No one controls me!"_ Jazz shot back.

"Except Optimus," I muttered under breath.

He relented. _"Well . . . ye'h._ "

Rolling my eyes, I waited to see just how he was going to make it around a corner that led to the exit, but he just pulled himself around it by shifting just an arm. I was mildly impressed, but still mostly just horrified that he went to such a length to draw me out of my room.

Finally, painfully slowly with tons of ear-bleeding grinding and sour looks from other residents, we made it outside. The door was slightly smaller than the hallway, and watching Jazz squeeze his way through it made me cringe. Not just because I couldn't bear the noise that he made, but because his otherwise immaculate paint was going to be scraped to high hell.

If it had been Sideswipe or even Sunstreaker, they never would have done it. I was actually a little surprised that Jazz had gone through all that, but he wasn't as self-absorbed as the twins seemed to be—or at least acted.

 _"A'ight, get in."_

His door opened and I did as he said. As soon as I did, the windows went completely dark to the point where I couldn't see a damn thing outside.

"Jazz. What are you doing."

Snickering, he replied, " _I gots a surprise for ya."_

With a heavy sigh, I leaned back in my seat and just buckled in for the ride. By now, I knew better than to question or fuss over the things he did. He was more stubborn than I was, plus bigger and stronger so even if I did want to peace out, he probably wasn't going to let me unless he thought I was absolutely serious, and I never really was. Most of the time I just argued for the sake of teasing him.

"You didn't have a race with Sideswipe at all, did you?" I muttered, closing my eyes.

 _"Nope. That was just an excuse."_

"Of course it was. Can you at least tell me what this is about?"

 _"Nope."_

"Of course not."

He turned on some tunes and just drove around. I couldn't see anything, the windows wouldn't roll down, so I just sat back and enjoyed the soothing motion of him rolling along. In the end, I spaced out into my own world and Jazz let me until we reached whatever our destination was, because he pulled to a jerky stop, slamming on his breaks.

I jerked forward against my seatbelt and let out a surprised gasp, my heart beating a mile a minute.

"Oh my god, Jazz, why did you do that?"

 _"Make sure you were awake!"_

My retaliation was a swift kick to the floor panel and he shook with amusement, declaring, _"Ey! That tickles!"_

"Are you going to let me out or what?" I harrumphed, pouting with my arms crossed over my chest. "I want to see this 'surprise' you have for me."

Jazz didn't let me out just yet, though, and instead said, _"Well, it ain't so much just for you but . . ."_

"Jazz . . ."

 _"A'ight, get out."_

The door opened and I gave him a surly but good-natured glare and climbed out. I knew immediately that we were in one of the hangars. It had been completely cleared out and was set up with the tree that had been in the mess hall, tables lined with the letters and shipped gifts, and a banquet set up in the center of it all. All the personnel still on-base seemed to be there already, serving plates and chatting with each other.

Lights were strung up over seemingly every inch of the place, giving the hangar an ambiance it never had normally. I didn't know who went out and got all those lights, or if they'd just had Amazon ship them out or whatever, but whoever had decorated the place really went all out.

Because of the size of the hangar, meant to house airplanes and various other equipment, the Autobots were all gathered inside, as well, clumped mostly together except for a few of the most social of them mingling with the staff.

"What's this about?" I asked, giving Jazz some room to finish transforming back to his bipedal form.

"Christmas dinner!" Jazz announced.

I frowned and looked up at him. "But it's not Christmas for like another two days."

A soldier who was walking past to join the rest gave me a strange look and said, "Where have you been, lady? Today is the 25th."

Jazz waved in his direction with an accusing gesture and said, "Leave her alone she had a concussion and forgets dates all the time now." The guy raised his eyebrows and shuffled off awkwardly.

"Please, Jazz," I groaned.

However, I still couldn't believe that I was a couple of days off the schedule. I didn't even have my cellphone on me to confirm, but I didn't think anyone would outright _lie_ to me about when Christmas was. Why would they?

Still and all, I found myself asking, "It's not actually Christmas, though, right? I'm forgetful but I'm not . . . I can't be that forgetful. Can I?"

Crouching down to my level, Jazz put his hand behind me and I leaned against it out of habit. He told me, "It is, little miss. C'mon, Epps'n the other culinary-inclined personnel put this whole meal together for everyone."

"But I'm not part of the military," I said.

"You still on the payroll. C'mon, ya can sit by us Autobots!" he insisted, turning me around and giving me a gentle nudge toward the tables.

I chewed absently on my bottom lip and muttered, "Okay, if you say so."

The table closest to the other mechs had at least one spot open for me and Jazz told me to go get some food and he'd save me the chair. I was hesitant to leave him, but did so anyway.

 _I'm a big girl. I can go get food by myself._

It was set up like a buffet, so I just grabbed a plate and some cutlery and served myself a modest portion of the admittedly delicious-smelling meal. Slices of pork, steaming mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and a roll. There were some culturally-diverse dishes prepared, but I was immediately drawn to what was already on my plate.

Just like Mom used to make.

"Did you get enough to eat?" Jazz asked, craning his neck to look at my plate. "It barely looks like you got anything!"

"Look here, if I need more I can always go get more. I'd rather not waste food, thank you very much," I shot back, not unkindly as I took my seat. "I imagine you guys aren't going to be doing any eating?"

He shook his head. "Naw, we just here to witness your holidays and traditions and partake a little bit."

Optimus approached, breaking away from a conversation he'd been having with some of the other 'bots and gave me a polite nod. "Kathryn, Jazz managed to convince you to come and dine with us after all?"

"He tricked me."

Jazz cringed and gave me a helpless look. "She wasn't going to come out on her own!"

However, Optimus just seemed to find it all amusing and said, "Well, I am sorry for his actions but I am glad to see you out and about. He was worried about you, as were we all. If these holidays are as important as they seem to be, I can imagine how you must feel since the incident."

 _Incident. That's putting it lightly._

I managed to smile up at Optimus, aware that Jazz had gone uncharacteristically silent. "It's been difficult, but I've been trying to manage. Thank you for your concern."

The Autobot leader nodded. "I hope that you enjoy the festivities. I believe they will be bringing out a . . . karaoke machine later."

"Oh that's just . . . that's just great," I said.

Optimus didn't seem to catch my sarcasm and excused himself. "Where's Star at?" I asked Jazz once his leader had assimilated back into the conversation he had been having with Ratchet, the medical expert.

Jazz looked around, then pointed. "Over there, trying to be social I guess."

Following his indication, I spotted the small 'bot surrounded by a bunch of soldiers in fatigues. They seemed to be having a good time, though Star looked a little lost the way she kept looking at all of them. I hoped they weren't trying to prank her by teaching her something ridiculous. She had been through enough as it was after her unceremonious birth into the world.

"Well, that's good. She needs to hang out with people other than me more often," I said, finally managing to dig into my food.

A small commotion seemed to kick up a few minutes later. I didn't pay much attention to it except to glance in the direction of the present table. Someone was going through and picking up the letters and packages, reading names and shouting for the person to come and collect.

It came as a complete surprise when I heard my name shouted out over the din. I almost thought it was someone else and I was hearing things, but Jazz nudged me.

"Go get your gift!"

I gave him a bewildered look, then pushed away from the table and headed over along with a few other people who were still trying to make their way through the crowd.

"Oh, hey," the soldier in charge of the gift sorting greeted me. "You're Kathryn, then?"

"Yes, Kathryn Walker."

He checked a few of the packages and letters, then piled up a couple of boxes with a few envelopes and handed it over to me. "These are for you."

"Are . . . are you sure?"

"Yup, Kathryn Walker." He pointed at the name on one of the boxes and the address on the envelopes—all sent to a PO box that we were allowed to use. Couldn't have people sending packages to a super-secret military base, after all.

Though I was still in disbelief, I took my haul and headed back to where Jazz and I were sitting.

"Well?" he prompted.

Taking a seat, I pushed my mostly-empty plate aside and looked through the letters, first. Most of them were from my extended family, all on my mother's side.

"Letters from family," I answered quietly, opening the envelopes with little grace, tearing them open into a big mess. They were typical Christmas cards with cash inside or prepaid Visa cards. It was still more than I expected, and I was glad I had taken the time to send them some cards, though I hadn't put any monetary gifts inside.

 _I'll make it up to them on their birthdays,_ I avowed.

"An' the boxes?" he urged, giving me all kinds of suspicious vibes.

I gave him a strange look and asked, "What, did you get me a present or something?"

There was a twinkle in his eye that confirmed my thoughts, only further solidified when he said. "I might have asked Bumblebee to ask Sam to ask Mikaela what kinds of things you might like."

"That was a mouthful. Sounds like a lot of work."

"It was!"

Smiling, I checked the two boxes. One was from Marie so I opened that one first—well, I had Jazz cut the tape for me—and immediately rolled my eyes at the "Earwax Candle Kit" gag box she had packed the real present in.

"That's . . . a weird gift . . ." Jazz remarked.

I sighed. "It's just a joke. The real gift is inside. Honestly, she's such a spaz." I had him once again cut the tape for me.

There was a note inside, so I read it out loud. "'Lol I gotcha! Sorry I just had to. Enjoy your real present.' See? It was just a dumb joke."

"Well, what'd she get ya, then?"

Whatever was inside was basically the same size as the Earwax Candle box. I first tried to squeeze my fingers between the two boxes to pull the real gift out, but I ended up having to turn it over and dump it out.

"Oh, jeez . . . she really went all out."

"What is it!"

I rolled my eyes and gave him a huff. "Calm down, you're acting like a child."

"It's my first Christmas! I'm excited."

"Oh my god. Well, it's a gravity blanket," I said, turning the box over to show him the picture on the side. "It's supposed to use weight to reduce stress and anxiety so you can sleep better at night."

After a brief pregnant pause, Jazz asked, "Do they work? Cuz . . . you sure ain't been sleeping well."

"I guess we'll see," I said, staring at the box a few seconds too long. I couldn't remember if I'd told her about my sleeping troubles or if she had just assumed . . . or maybe even just thought it would be a good gift. Out of curiosity, I checked the box again and saw another note stuck to the bottom.

This one I read to myself, though Jazz was hovering over my shoulder anyway.

" _Hopefully this will help you through the nights. You've been through a lot, but I know you got this, girl. Call me whenever you need to and visit soon!"_

"Marie seems like a good friend," Jazz said.

I brushed my eyes and nodded. "She's great," I sniffed.

Before I got too weepy, I put the box aside and pulled the one I assumed was from Jazz closer to me. "How did you pay for this? You guys aren't like . . . being compensated monetarily, right? You're just being allowed to live here?"

"I did some favors for some people in exchange for money'n wired it t'Mikaela so she could buy ya whatever," he explained with a shrug.

"You really did go through an awful lot of trouble. Do you even know what Mikaela bought me?" I asked incredulously.

He harrumphed. "Yes! She helped me pick it out, I didn't jus' give her free license."

"Alright, alright. Just asking. Open this for me, please."

Jazz cut the tape and I pulled it open. There was no gag box, though I didn't expect one. Inside was a collection of stuff, one of which was a nail polish kit with stencils and stickers and some other things.

"Oh, she must'a got ya that on her own," Jazz said with a moderate amount of surprise before I could even ask.

"Aw, that was so nice of her. I'm glad I got her something too, then. I can't wait to try some of these stencils," I said more to myself than to Jazz. I'd always just done solid colors, but I'd been more and more interested in doing fancier things.

Next in the box was Jazz's gift to me. I was kind of expecting more picture frames or something, but it a few boxes of LED string lights in the shape of stars, then two succulent pots with seeds included that were shaped like owls. I cooed over them for a second and looked up at him with a bright grin.

"These are so cute, Jazz," I said.

He seemed a little embarrassed and looked away, rubbing the back of his head with a hand. "Ah, I just wanted to keep helping ya make yer room feel like home."

Still smiling, I set the gifts back in the box for safekeeping and set the cards from my family with them. "I can't wait to set them all up. I just hope I can get those seeds to grow. I kind of have a black thumb."

"Mikaela says those plants thrive on neglect or somethin' so ya should be good," he assured me with a decisive nod.

"Well, good."

I put the boxes down to free up space on the table so I could maybe go get some dessert and after a second, Jazz asked, "Ya seem like yer in better spirits now."

"I am . . . thank you, for tricking me into coming out," I said, standing on my toes to peck him on the cheek.

He grinned and said, "Anytime, little miss."

* * *

 **Check out my creator page at w w w. pat r eo n kayla n hodge (I trust you can try to piece that together after ff butchers it)**

 **Follow me on Twitter at imagine _kayla**


	7. It's a Date

**Hello, readers!**

 **I kept meaning to post this but kept forgetting because I'm trash.**

 **Anyway, I know I've been quiet. Still working on stuff . . . just still trying to get used to my new full-time schedule at work and balancing all the things going on in life. I'm trying, though, I am. I still post stuff on my patron page, so you can always check there to see where I'm at, as well as follow me on twitter, though I don't really post to that a whole lot sometimes.**

 **Anyway, this was for a prompt event being held over on AO3 by a facebook group I'm a member of. I wasn't allowed to post it elsewhere for a while, but here it is now! A fluffy exchange between Jazz and Kat. Here's a special thanks to my patrons, Tonya, Dark, Lily, Kendra, Andrew, and Narttu! Enjoy!**

 **~ Crayola**

* * *

It's a Date

After the events of Starry Skies, Kathryn and Jazz have a little bit of time for themselves.

* * *

It was hot.

Like, so fucking hot.

An oppressive kind of heat that just wears you down, knocks you out, and leaves you for dead. A humid sort of heat that drains every ounce of your energy and makes you drown in sweat. All the better to dehydrate you into a dried-up little husk that just disappears in the wind, scattered like the dusty sands of the Egyptian desert.

Not me, though. I was inside a car with AC that never ran out, cranked up to full and blasting me with icy air. I kept my eyes closed and drank it in, hoping that if I absorbed enough air conditioning, it would keep me cool if I set foot outside of Jazz's climate-controlled interior.

Unfortunately, that's not how it works. Every time I set foot outside to take pictures, go for a tour, or even just to walk into a building for a bathroom break, a little more of me melted away and no amount of time spent inside wasn't enough to keep the summer air from chipping away at my stamina.

Thankfully, the sun was setting and the temperature outside was dropping off by the minute. At some point, I was even able to turn the AC down without immediately baking to death under the glare of the sun. It was muggy outside, still, but more tolerable.

It felt like we'd been driving around Cairo for ages. I tried not to leave Jazz for too long since he technically couldn't go on any tours of any temples or museums or anything, so I had barely left my seat for the duration of our trip. However, I was starting to get a little restless and cramped. The Solstice form Jazz favored was a two-seater . . . there wasn't a whole lot of room.

From the beautiful mosques to the expansive splendor of the Nile—which seemed more like an ocean at some points considering just how big it was—to the quiet side streets, we drove through it all. We stopped so I could eat, and he let me wander while he had to take a meeting with the rest of the Autobots, giving me a bit of free time. Had the Decepticons not demolished one of the Pyramids of Giza with their Earth-destroying plans, we might have gone to see those marvels, too.

But _no_. The Decepticons were why we couldn't have nice things.

Who knew when they'd have the pyramids open to the public again. I wasn't even sure if someone was going to rebuild the one that had been torn apart. They had to, right? The pyramids were some of the Wonders of the World and my experience with them had been full of terror and danger.

It just wasn't fair.

 _"A'ight, get out."_ Jazz's voice came through the stereo's speakers.

I cast a disdainful glance out my window and grimaced. Waves of heat were rolling off his metal exterior and it was hot enough that the horizon was doing the same. That was still too hot. It would be just my luck to be stuck in Cairo right smack dab in the middle of summer.

"Do I have to?" I whined. "I can just stay here where it's cool."

 _"Don't worry. It's just a short walk. It's cooler now than it was earlier, anyway."_

Though I wasn't sure how far, I knew we were outside of the city. I'd kind of spaced out for a while, just watching the scenery. The river was still visible, but I knew better than to assume it was close.

"What are you going to do?" I asked.

 _"I'mma come wit' ya!"_

"But won't someone see?" I pointed out, still looking outside. There wasn't a whole lot of cover where we were and a giant robot would get noticed quickly out in the open.

He forcefully ejected me from his interior and I let out an unflattering sound as I was dumped unceremoniously onto the dusty ground. I scrambled to my feet as fast I could manage while minimizing any contact with the baking dirt while Jazz was busy transforming to his bipedal form. I gave him my best glare.

"One of these days, Jazz . . . one of these days . . ."

He ignored my idle threat and gestured around us. "Don't worry, little miss. I chose this area 'cause there ain't any people for miles. 'Sides, what's it matter? The Decepticons broadcast our existence all over the world. We ain't really a secret no more."

I sighed. "Yeah, but the general public isn't going to know if you're friendly and I don't want to cause a panic."

"Stop worrying. Let's go . . . it's a short walk. You want me to carry ya?"

"No." I shook my head. "I'll walk. I'm all cramped up from being driven everywhere today. But I am going to complain about the heat the whole way, got that?"

Jazz snickered. "A'ight, a'ight, that's fair."

Whatever Jazz thought a "short walk" was, it certainly wasn't what we ended up doing. The hike was maybe only half an hour, but under the setting sun and lingering heat, it seemed like forever. I ended up not having enough energy to complain, and by the time we stopped at our destination, I had developed a fine layer of sweat. The path was certainly no place for a sports car, though, so I didn't bother asking him to drive us.

There was a slight incline the whole way, so my legs were protesting and sore by the time he let me stop. He went ahead a little way to let me catch my breath—I had stubbornly refused to let him carry me regardless of how often he asked—and then he motioned me over. It took me another second, but I nonetheless joined him.

"Now, ain't that view worth it?" he asked, crouching down so we were closer to the same height as each other.

Legs like jelly, I braced myself against his side and looked over at Cairo; miles and miles away from us. With the sun still setting, the lights were just beginning to switch on all over the city. Jazz had taken us out east so we could watch the great big yellow star drift below the horizon and it had started to dip down beneath the skyline, casting everything in vibrant oranges and dying the clouds pink.

"It is nice," I agreed in a low voice. "Even if it is a little cliche."

Jazz scoffed and I gave him a playful smile. "Are you trying to romance me, First Lieutenant Jazz?" I teased.

Shifting his intense blue gaze on me, he smirked as much as his rigid faceplates would allow. "What if I am? Is it working?"

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the collar of my shirt and tried to air it out. "Oh yeah, it's really romantic . . . I'm all sweaty and gross and breathless. The view is nice, though, and we don't get a lot of time to just sit together."

"Yer not gross," Jazz huffed.

"I'm a little gross," I giggled, wiping my brow.

After a moment, I pointed up at the sky to where the moon had been sitting for a little bit. Looking up at him, I asked, "That's where the Fallen hiding was, right?"

He nodded. "The Decepticons' ship _The Nemesis_ — " _Why wouldn't their ship be called 'The Nemesis'?_ " — is up there. Ours, _The Ark_ , is down here with you all. Ratchet and some' a the others've made sure it's ready to go in case you guys drive us off."

His words made me frown. "We can't do that. You guys are the only thing stopping the Decepticons from completely enslaving us. They have to see that."

"'Fraid all they see is the property damage."

Though it was disgruntling, I had to concede that point. After all, I was the one who was taking in all those claims and paperwork. I muttered a few incoherent insults aimed at our government and just stood there next to him for a few minutes as the sun finally disappeared into the horizon. It was still muggy out, but the temperature had certainly become a lot less oppressive.

"It's still hot," I murmured aloud.

"We could go swimmin' in the river," Jazz suggested.

With a scoff, I said, "I don't have a suit."

When I glanced up at him, his expression was sparking with mischief. "That's fine, we can just go skinny dipping instead!"

"That doesn't sound like a good idea at all."

"What? Why? It's a great idea! Better than getting your clothes all wet," he insisted. "The river should be nice and cool."

"Someone will see! I'm not getting caught in the Nile River stark naked." Before he even had a chance to sneak a word in edgewise, I was right on to the next point. "Besides, there are like, crocodiles or something in there. I'll get eaten!"

"You won't get eaten," Jazz said, rolling his whole head at the very notion.

"What are you even saying, anyway? You're a robot. Every time you go swimming you're skinny dipping!"

In a playful gesture, he tapped the top of my head with his finger. "'Ey, I'm a _cybernetic organism,_ not a robot. Don't be speciest!" he teased, pretending to turn away from me and pout about it.

I put my hands up in a placating manner. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. How's this . . . when we get back to base, we can go swimming at the beach. If you promise not to invite anyone else, it can even be _skinny dipping_. God . . . I can already hear Sideswipe's lewd comments." I muttered the last bit more to myself than to him, my face flushing at the imaginary catcalls.

He turned back around to face me, his expression almost unreadable. "I would never invite others to our date, least of all Sideswipe."

That made me giggle. "A date, huh?"

Jazz tilted his head to the side and asked, "What else you call it? We'd hang out, get a meal, and then go swimming! That's a date for you humans, ain't it?"

Smiling, I shifted my attention back to the sky. From here, the stars were vibrant and numerous. It was the one thing I would always love about no longer living with the general public in the cities—the stars were absolutely gorgeous, twinkling away in the sky without any light pollution to drown them out.

"It's a date, then," I murmured, leaning my head against him.

* * *

 **Hello, readers!**

 **Welcome to the index! This exists at the end of my last chapter because I'll probably end up rearranging the stories so they're as close to chronologic order instead of all over the place. Since fanfic doesn't send out alerts when an author rearranges, only when they post new stuff, you might not know what's new. This way, when you check your alerts and see I posted a new chapter, you'll be able to check the bottom of the "latest" chapter for this index and you can see which one is new and go straight to that one without any of the guesswork!**

 **So, here's a quick outline of what's been added so far! Every time I add a new one, I'll update this index and indicate which one is new so you can skip to it. There'll also be a handy list of one-shots I'm planning to write so I don't get a bunch of requests for the same thing! Don't forget to check out my author page for any fun facts or playlists!**

* * *

 **New one-shots are highlighted with a *!**

 **1\. No News**

 **2\. Right Place, Wrong Time**

 **3\. Alternate Ending**

 **4\. Sunny-Side Up**

 **5\. Plastic Hearts**

 **6\. Yuletide ***

 **7\. It's a Date**

* * *

 **Here are some upcoming stories. Feel free to make any sort of request you want. Alternate POVs, new scenes you've always dreamed of, or alternate scenes where something new happens. Request away! There is no stupid request!**

 **1\. No new ideas atm**

* * *

 ** _*Disclaimer: One-shots will be in various different POVs. Maybe third person, maybe first person. They're one step above being completely raw, so they will not be as good as the main chapters, probably. I'll do my best to avoid typos, but beyond that, the content itself is not as heavily edited as others. I always welcome critiques, though._**

* * *

 **Check out my creator page at w w w. pat r eo n kayla n hodge (I trust you can try to piece that together after ff butchers it)**

 **Follow me on Twitter at imagine _kayla**


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